Pretend
by justaweirdfangirl
Summary: Harry's been pretending for a while now. Images of death and abuse are always stuck inside his head. The only time he doesn't pretend is when he's alone, which is almost impossible because of how famous he is. Then Malfoy sees everything Potter had spent years hiding from the world. Harry tries to desperately push down the feelings that he hasn't felt for a long time. (PS OC) R/R
1. Malfoy Snooping

**Pretend**

* * *

 _Hello there! This is my very first HP fanfic and I've had this story going on in my head for a while now. I've read a couple of stories like this, and I'm just going to let you know that I will have an OC here. Just one. So it's fine. Also it's very Angsty .-. Hope you don't mind! This takes place in OoTP btw :)_

 **Disclaimer : Do I look like I own Harry Potter? I don't even own my bloody hair Ties! ;-;**

* * *

I like it when people are happy.

I like it when I make people happy.

I like it when people laugh.

I like it when people get complimented.

I like it when I'm with my friends.

I like it when my friends are happy.

I like it when people are too happy to notice me.

I like it when people

are too happy to notice

that I've changed.

I like it when people don't. ….

realize that I'm pretending.

I like it when people …..

…

don't realize that I'm broken.

I

like it when

people see what they want to see in me.

I like it when

...people

don't ...notice

...anything.

* * *

Harry sat down on the edge of the Astronomy Tower at night, staring into the horizon. The midnight blue sky was dotted with sparkling stars. He could count all of the constellations that he saw. Ursa Major, Ursa Minor, O'rion. The dark silhouettes of the tall trees stood out, and Harry had a small smile on his face, admiring the beauty of Hogwarts.

He rolled up his leaves and began tracing his scars. First his scars from that blasted blood quill courtesy of Professor Toad Face. I must not tell lies, he said to himself, doing the worse imitation of Umbitch as possible. He scowled in his mind in pure hatred. He then went down lower onto his wrists. He remembered these scars. These were the times he had first cut himself.

-FlashBack-

 **July 30, 1992**

 **Today marks the day that I cut my skin open for the first time. It was exhilarating and felt amazing. At first I felt scared, but then I felt relieved. It felt like a large weight on my shoulders had been lifted. I'd been so worried about my friends lately, and they haven't been writing to me yet. Yesterday one of my bestest Muggle friend (who I found out a few days ago was a Squib. By the way Muggle means Non-magical in the Britain Wizarding World.) killed herself. I can still remember the way all of her cuts had opened, and how the floor was colored red with her blood. I called her dad and 999, though. Was that enough? Was that the right thing to do? Did I help? I hope so. I hope she's still alive. I haven't received news from her or her father. I consider her as a sister, ever since we first met. We were so close, I don't know what I did wrong. I should've noticed she was hurting.**

 **But I think I understand how Fiona felt when she did it now. I'm supposed to be the brave and responsible one, though. So I decided I won't cut myself too deep, unless I decide to kill myself.**

 **I don't understand why my subconsious tells me to get help when I'm the happiest I've ever been. I'd rather keep cutting myself until I blow my cover and land myself in the emergency room.**

 **-End-**

He felt himself smiling on the inside as he remembered how it felt at first. First it was painful, but then it felt so good. It felt like releasing all of your burdens. He had cut himself more frequently, he didn't want that feeling to leave. He didn't want the choice of cutting himself to be taken away, either. It was the only thing that he had in control, the only thing that he can stop and continue. It made him feel numb. It made him feel. Seeing the blood that oozes out of his arms made him feel human, and not just some person who's gonna die or win in a war.

This was one of the times that he had let himself stop pretending. To finally stop pretending to be someone he wasn't. He hated being the boy who lived, he hated being the golden boy. He hated being admired. He wished that he had just been a normal child, with a normal childhood, with normal worries such as who he should date and what he should wear. He didn't want to fight Voldemort. This was the real him.

How would Dumbledore feel if his Golden Boy was broken? He'll probably be furious. After all, no one wants a broken pawn in battle.

This was the real Harry. Not The Boy Who Lived, but just Harry. The real Harry is broken, depressed, and suicidal. The real Harry goes out of his way to make others happy. The real Harry doesn't want people to worry about him. The real Harry wishes that he wasn't famous for something he didn't do. The real Harry wished that it was he who died instead of his parents.

* * *

" Potter, what are you doing out after curfew?" Came Draco cold drawling voice. Harry froze and rolled down his sleeves, and stared into the night sky.

I could ask the same with you, Harry thought coldly. I was here first.

That was such a childish thing to think about

"Studying, Malfoy," Harry said dully, not bothering to be snappy like he usually was to the Slytherin. He really wanted to try to be civil with him. "Astronomy. Looking for how many constellations and stars I can recognize. It is the Astronomy Tower."

He looked up. "See there? Ursa Major has Polaris in its form. Now just follow Polaris and you can find Ursa Minor." He recited tonelessly, pointing to the stars.

"I have never heard of a more pathetic excuse than that." Draco rolled his eyes. "Tell me why you're here."

Harry let out a shaky breath, still staring lifelessly into the horizon. "Just thinking, Malfoy." He said politely. "What about you?" He changed his tone from dull to cheerful. His posture changed at once, his attitude perky. "Are you okay, Malfoy?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry about me. What are you thinking about?" The fuck was wrong with this kid?

"Life." Harry answered simply, smiling dreamily to himself while looking out. "I think about what would have happened if I lived somewhere else. Maybe an orphanage, perhaps? You know, sometimes I wonder what would happen if —" He stopped, not letting his dark thoughts intervene.

The Slytherin sat down beside him. "What, your coddled and pampered lifestyle not good enough for you, Potter?"

Harry sucked in a deep breath, trying to control his feelings. Pretend, he thought, Pretend that you're unfazed.

"No Malfoy, I just love being with my relatives every holiday." Harry said sarcastically.

"Don't say that in that ungrateful tone!" Malfoy snapped. "You should be happy that you get everything you want at home! You have all the money anyone could possibly want!"

Harry flinched mentally. Something in him broke. Just snapped. Maybe it was his patience. Maybe it was his self control. Maybe it was the fact that he had been pretending for way too long.

"You want to know WHY I said that in that 'ungrateful' tone?!" Harry snarled, standing up with angry un shed tears in his eyes. "I'll tell you why! Have you ever noticed anything different about me every term after summer? Ever noticed that I'm about as thin as a twig? How I don't normally want to talk to people? Hell, everyone wants to talk to me, though! Because I'm the boy who fucking lived! Famous for something my mother did!

The Dursleys? What did they do to me? I'll tell you what they fucking did-" as Harry was talking, he was clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles were turning white and his fingernails were digging into his skin"- They fucking kept me in a cupboard."

Harry took a shaky breath. "I lived in the cupboard. Under the stairs. The was my home. My routine was that everyday I wake up super early to prepare them a glorious breakfast, then Uncle Vernon hands me two pages worth of chores, and if I'm not done, or if I don't do something right, I get beaten and whipped and tortured. Tell you what, my innocence was taken when I turned fucking seven. That was how awful they were. But for Dumbledore? NO NO NO! I was safest there! He wouldn't care about the abuse I was going through even if it was staring right at him! He only cares about me as a fucking pawn in the war and nothing else!"

Tears were now running down Harry's face and he took a deep breath. He slid down one of the columns and cried silently into his arms and knees.

"I hate doing this..." He muttered to himself.

Draco was dumbstruck and unsure of what to do. Potter wasn't a spoiled brat. He then paled considerably. He was beaten. He was abused. He lived in a fucking CUPBOARD. This was not what he was expecting when he asked what he was thinking of. The least he could've done was to comfort the boy. It took all his willpower to not curse Pott- Harry's poor excuse of relatives.

"How have you hid this all from us?" The King of Slytherin asked softly, 'us' referring to the people at school.

Harry laughed humorlessly. "I learned a very important talent when I was in kindergarten at muggle school." He said dully, no emotion in his voice. There wasn't even a trace of emotion in Potter's face, Draco observed.

"I learned how to pretend." Harry said simply and tonelessly. "You ever play make believe? Pretend you're one thing, when you're really the other?" He laughed again. "'Mione and Ron never learn. But I do."

Draco felt a pang of guilt in his heart, but quickly pushed it aside. He was NOT feeling sorry for Potter. But then again... This wasn't the same Potter he knew. This Potter was... Broken.

How had the Mudblood and Weasel not realize this? They were Potter's closest friends for Merlin's sake!

But then again... He'd been hiding them. He'd been hiding the evedence.

"You've changed, though, Potter." He stated calmly.

Harry smiled without feeling. "I've always been like this," He said cheerfully. "You're just seeing it for the first time."

"I don't understand."

"Have you noticed how everyday I'm late for Breakfast or just skip breakfast?" Harry asked. "It's because on most days, I can't even find a reason or an ounce of motivation to get up. Why go to school? Why make friends? Why eat? Why make others waste their energy by spending time with me? That's what it feels like." He grins. "It's bittersweet, when people care about me. On one hand it's finally good to have someone to care, and on the other hand I feel disgusted as to why people would even bother caring about me. I'm better off dead! Haha! Imagine that, the Ministry comes and I'm just hanging from the ceiling!" Potter was laughing now.

Draco was getting creeped out. What was going on?

"Potter, stop that!"

"No." Harry said. "If we're going to be talking like this then we might as well call ourselves by our given names Mal- Draco."

Wait, where did that come from?

"Fine, HARRY," Draco inwardly scowled. "Are you going insane?"

Potte- Harry giggled. "I don't really know." He replied, looking at the stars. "Some days I think I've gone insane, other days I want to go insane."

He began playing with his long shirt sleeve and absent-mindedly, accidently lifting it up high enough for Draco to notice his most recent cuts. Draco grabbed hold of his hand tightly.

"What is this?" He hissed. Harry became horrified and tried to pull himself away from Malfoy's grip.

"I-it's nothing! It's a scratch! Let me go!" He snapped, trying to fight his hand away.

Draco kept on holding Potter's hand tightly. "No. It is not just a scratch!" He rolled up the sleeves and quickly let go, eyes wide.

Harry's arms were littered with cuts, from wrist to elbow, and not only that...

There were bruises.

Angry, purple bruises and red marks everywhere.

Harry sighed. "I knew I should've put on a glamour before I came up here," he muttered to himself.

"Potte– Harry?" Draco asked quietly. "H-how long?"

Harry shrugged. "Long enough." He said simply.

"I... I'm sorry."

Harry sighed in frustration. One minute Draco was acting such an ass and then the next he acts like a friend. "Dude, what the bloody hell?" He snapped, standing up. "Stop acting like an ass! You keep on being rude and then now you're being nice to me!"

"Im trying not to make you kill yourself!" Draco argued.

"Well, stop being such a dick about it!" Harry huffed, turning around. "See you tomorrow, Malfoy."

He left the Slytherin on the Astronomy Tower, annoyed. He put on his glamours and grabbed his invisibility cloak with him, walking away.

Draco felt guilty. Why had he been rude to Potter lol these years. He felt tears coming into the corners of his eyes, but blinked them away.

Malfoys don't cry.


	2. Telling Snape

**Pretend**

* * *

 **Disclaimer : The day I become J.K. Rowling is the day I become straight.**

* * *

 **This Morning after the Incident**

Draco had to tell someone. He knew that he had to. As much as he is rude to Potter, he wouldn't wish him to become depressed to the point he cuts himself.

Was he the reason?

For a while, he's been questioning his feelings about Potter. His usual amazing, green eyes were now a dull green that nearly looked like vomit, and he felt that most of Harry's smiles looked like grimaces. And above all that, he's been acting insanely cheerful, and, truthfully, it almost made Draco feel sick.

Wait, when did Potter become Harry?

Oh, yeah. Last night.

 _If there's one thing I learned from Muggle School, it's learning how to pretend._

"Sev?" Draco asked uncertainly, his voice bouncing back and fourth in the dungeon walls.

"Enter, Draco." Came Snape's sharp voice from the room. The door opened and Draco stepped inside, almost sighing with relief. He was normally used to the coldness of the dungeons, what with the common room being there, but he couldn't help but feel warmer when he was with someone he liked. Er, platonically. **(A/N NO There will be no Draco X Snape —_—)**

"What is it, now?" Snape asked, grading first years' essays.

Draco hesitated for a minute. How should he start? _Oh, hey, I was just really worried about Harry because he has a million cuts on his arms?_

"It's about Potter." He said finally, sitting down on a vacant wooden chair. The Professor rose an eyebrow.

"What'd the boy do now?" Snape asked.

"No.. I.. Er… I'm kinda worried about him," Malfoy struggled, finding the right words. He looked at his godfather, who raised both eyebrows now.

"Really? A Malfoy who has feelings?" Snape fought the urge to smile. "I thought I'd never see the day, much less caring about a Potter."

"No! It's serious!" Draco said. "I… Haven't you noticed he's been a bit off lately? He hasn't been answering back to my insults, he just walks off with that annoying bounce in his step. He has these fake plastered smiles that are so wide that it looks like at about any minute he's going to vomit out rainbows and go on about how there's so much goodness in the world." He shuddered at the thought of Potter vomiting out rainbows.

"I never knew you were that observant," Snape commented. He leaned back into his chair. "Very well, I'll look into it."

"Thanks," Draco said. "Goodnight, Sev."

"Have a good sleep." He replied. He went back to grading papers.

* * *

 **The Next Morning**

Severus Snape, also more known as the dungeon bat, greasy git. Person who rarely shows emotion in his face except for the occasional sneer and the look of disgust he shoots at the arrogant brat, Potter.

Severus Snape, who is now looking at Potter from a distance in the staff table. He looked at him like something was wrong.

Which there was.

 _A glamour._ Snape mumbled to himself, looking at him intently, trying to search for a reason as to why Potter would be wearing such a thing.

Muscles? To get more good-looking? To have girls drool over him?

He watched as the bushy-haired know-it-all Granger started fussing over Potter.

"Harry, you look awful! What happened?" Hermione asked, concern written all over her face. Ron — ginger hair, hand me down objects, freckles, part of the golden trio, you can't miss him — nodded, his mouth full will bacon and eggs.

"Ye, yoo look sik!" He said, Hermione smacked him in the arm for talking with his mouth full.

Potter smiled. "It's okay guys, I just didn't get enough sleep. You know, what with all the nightmares and stuff." He said, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. "Besides, can you really blame me? I mean, I had another one of the Toad's detentions, and you KNOW how annoying she is."

Snape had to silently had to agree with Potter. Not only did she start making up absurd rules such as not being allowed to hold _The_ _Quibbler_. Though _The Quibbler_ was a ridiculous magazine, that shouldn't be banned to read! And if that isn't any worse, he had to physically sit and communicate with Umbridge. She ruins his day before it even starts! That annoying cough and throat clearing was going to drive him insane, he just knew it.

Wait, did he just agree with a _Potter_?

Maybe he _was_ going insane.

"You know, you should _really_ tell someone about Umbridge." Hermione said worriedly. Tell someone about what? Snape mused.

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm not giving her the satisfaction she wants! She wants me to tell someone!" _Now what is this?_

"Dude! She's literally torturing you!" Ron argued, grabbing his hand. "Look at this! She's forcing you to do this!" Harry snatched his hand back.

 _Torture? What does Potter know about torture?_

"Don't talk so loud in front of everyone!" Potter snarled. He sighed in frustration before fixing his face into a forced smile, though it looked more like a grimace. "I'll see you at Potions." With that, he smiled cheerfully, stood up and walked to his dormitory to get his supplies, with a bounce in his step.

Ron groaned. "Great. Just what we needed. First class of the day just had to be slytherin." He sighed. "Ugh, I hate how he walks. He looks like he's about to go to a world full of rainbows and unicorns."

Hermione looked over to Umbridge with a scared look. "We really should tell someone about her."

Snape went through his new found information. What could the annoying… _Female dog_ be doing that he considered torture?

That Potter knows nothing about torture, he thought. But the more he thought, the more he realized he was wrong. He saw the Dark Lord return. No doubt he would be tortured. But… Even Umbridge would set that kind of thing on a student, much less Potter, would she?

* * *

 **Hey! This is a bit of a shorter chapter :p, but whatever.**

 **Also, reviews motivate me to keep going soo… I just wanted to let you know. If I have no motivation, then I feel like I'm worthless therefore I go into a crippling depression. So, yeah. Reviews and flames are appreciated.**


	3. Detention

**Pretend**

* * *

 **Disclaimer : The day I become J.K. Rowling is when I die.**

 **Also Question : Would you believe that I'm 12 years old?**

* * *

 _I can't do anything. NOTHING._

 _No matter how hard I try, it's always the same results._

 _It would be really easy for me to kill myself right now._

 _But that would mean I would never be able to talk to my friends anymore._

 _All I want is for someone to notice something is wrong with me without telling everyone._

 _Why is that so hard?_

* * *

The whole class of the Defense Against the Dark Arts was pin drop quiet, except for the noise of the students flipping the pages of their useless pages. All three of the Weasleys just looked at the same page, pretending to read. Hermione was reluctant but decided that it was better than doing nothing. Harry was getting more pissed off at Professor Umbitch by the second. Luckily, it was someone else to break the silence.

"Professor, why don't we practice some real spells to... You know... Defend ourselves?" Seamus asked, looking up from his closed book. Umbridge looked at him and giggled her annoying giggle.

"And, Mr. Finnegan, what makes you think that we need to use a spell, unless something bad happens?" She asked sweetly, putting down her pink dyed quill.

"Because something bad _will_ happen!" Harry exclaimed suddenly, furious as to _how_ this... This person would think that he would like about his parents' murderer to be back. "Voldemort is back! And it's only a matter of time before he starts taking over the damn school! I saw him come back! I saw C... Cedric Diggory get killed by the Killing Curse itself!"

Umbridge looked at Harry with a sickening smile on her face. "10 points from Gryffindor for lying. Detention once your dinner is over."

Harry scowled, while the others who thought Harry was just an attention seeking liar just looked smug. Her mione and Ron shot Harry sad and worried looks, while the boy who lived just shrugged.

* * *

Classes have ended. Dinner was almost over. They were just about to finish dessert. After that, he'd have to go back to the pink lair the toad called an office.

Hoo-fucking-Ray.

He looked around, seeing people chatting and smiling. The professors were chatting about their students and blah, blah, blah, and Snape look pissed as always. He saw the Professor shoot him a piercing look, and Harry looked away, beginning to talk with his friends.

"Good luck mate," Ron said, patting Harry on the back while stuffing icecream in his face.

"I still think you should tell someone," Hermione said.

"It's fine, guys." Harry reassured. "I just have to suck it up. It'll be over before I know it."

"I really hope so," Ron remarked. "I hate the thought of spending more time with the toad more than I have to."

Harry just smiled, dreading his detention.

* * *

Harry walked quickly in the hallways, going to Umbitch's office, which was littered with pink, prissy curtains and cats that meow every flipping day.

The halls were filled with knights in all different sizes, but each wearing a shining coat of armor. They chatted amongst themselves, and fen to this day Harry couldn't help but feel amazed of all the magic around him. Now if only there wasn't a crazy lunatic murderer after him...

Draco was walking to Snape's dungeons when he saw Potter. Smirking, he walked beside him. He tripped Harry, knocking him onto the ground.

Harry landed on his hands, stopping his face plant. "Fucking ass," Harry mumbled under his breath, getting up. He just scowled, continuing his journey.

"Going somewhere, Potter?" Malfoy sneered.

"Malfoy, I really do not have the time and energy for this." Potter groaned. "You can beat me up and toy with my feelings tomorrow, just not right now." He pushed Malfoy aside and continued walking to his detention. Draco frowned and walked to his Godfather's office.

* * *

Draco entered Snape's office, closing the door behind him.

"What brings you here?" The Professor asked. Draco rolled his eyes.

"I'm asking you what you've noticed about Potter." He said, annoyed. Snape smirked. Behind him, a warm fire was lit, red and orange flames lighting the dim room.

"Ah, yes." Snape nodded. He frowned when he remembered the events and thoughts he witnessed this morning. "Well, this morning I noticed that the brat was wearing a glamour."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "Ah what?"

Snape inwardly groaned. "A glamour is a concealing charm that lets your magic conceal things that you don't want others to see. Kind of like makeup. It takes a powerful wizard to notice someone wearing that charm."

"Stop giving yourself credit."

What did Potter say last night? Something about a glamour?

 _Damn it, I knew I should've worn a glamour before coming up here_ ?

"The thing is, I'm confused why Potter would wear such a thing." Snape remarked. "To make girls drool over him?"

"No."

"No?" Snape asked.

"I know what he's hiding." Draco absentmindedly shivered. He would never have that image in his head removed. The sight of Potter's scars and the angry purple bruises. Potter's jagged cuts. There was also something on his hand.

"What is it, then?" The Professor pressed, waiting for the answer.

Draco hesitated.

"Hes hiding the scars."

* * *

Harry knocked on Umbridge's door, waiting to come in. He was greeted by the still pink-clothed professor who wore with it, a smile that was so fake even the dumbest person would realize it.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, come in." She said in her sickly sweet voice, shutting the door behind him. She mumbled something under her breath, wand out, leaving Harry wondering what the hell she's doing. He sat down on a chair with a desk, before he realized that the blood-quill was missing.

"Professor, where is the quill?" He asked, faking a confused look. He had become quite good at hiding his true feelings. After all, he would have to do it everyday anyway. Umbridge turned away from me he door, still smiling.

"I feel... That this punishment isn't working for you." She said, standing in front of Potter. He sat in silence, gulping.

"So I figured," she continued. "that we should do something else to get you from stopping to tell those ridiculous lies." She giggled.

"Professor, I'm not sure I—" Harry began, but was immedietly stopped by Umbridge pointing her small wand at him. "Professor—"

" _Crucio!"_ Umbridge squeaked, smiling.

Harry fell off his chair, yelling and screaming. He had almost no control of his body, his brain barely receiving the information he needed. It felt worse than the beatings his uncles had given him. It was worse than all the times he was whipped. It was even worse than when even _Voldemort himself_ had cast it. He was in excruciating pain. It felt like millions of burning knives were being stabbed all over his body while being bathed in lava. He wanted to die. Just to end it. _Just kill me now,_ Harry thought while screaming, trying his hardest to resist the pain. _I can be with my parents and Fiona again._

"STOP! PLEASE! STOP!" Harry cried, tears streaming out of his eyes as he moved around, trying to resist the pain. "STOP!"

After a moment, Umbridge lifted the curse off of Harry, which left him breathing for air, his face red and tear streaked.

"You may go now, Mr. Potter. The Cruciatus curse ought to loosen your tongue." She smirked.

Harry took a shaky breath and wiped his face, opening the door. Umbridge mumbled something under her breath again, closing the door. He suddenly felt very tired.

How come no one heard his screams? Surely at least someone would've came to get him. Then the thought hit him.

His pleads for help were blocked out because the toad put a silencing charm in the room.

* * *

 **There we go! It's not that good, but whatever. Reviews and flames feed my soul. Answer my question : Would you believe me if I told you I was 12?**


	4. New Kid

**Pretend**

* * *

 **Disclaimer : The day I become J.K. Rowling is when pigs fly.**

 **Also thank you for your kind 3 reviews! :)**

* * *

"He's hiding the what?" Snape asked, generally confused. The temperature in the room dropped about ten degrees, even with the vibrant fire cracking merrily.

"Scars." Draco said simply, though with a worried tone in his voice. "I saw them. There were lots. There were cuts and bruises, too."

* * *

 _Dear Sunshine,_

 _The way you drift into my curtains in the morning, you make me wake up._

 _You get me to rub the sleepy out of my eyes._

 _It makes me feel like every day is going to be a good day._

 _Are you letting me go and trusting me to have fun?_

 _Are you trusting me to wish away a rainy day?_

 _I look around, the sky is blue._

 _Its a secret, but I trust you too._

 _If it wasn't for you, I could sleep forever._

 _But I'm not mad._

 _I want breakfast. :)_

* * *

"Come on, Harry, wake up! You're going to miss breakfast!" Ron said, slapping Harry awake. Said boy groaned, swatting the hand away. He snuggled into his ruby red pillow. He didn't want to leave his bed; he was way to comfortable under the soft yellow and red blankets and sheets, and for once he had a nightmare-free sleep.

"Five more 'inutes..." Harry moaned, burying his head deeper into his pillow.

"You're going to miss breakfast!" Ron whined. " _I'm_ going to miss breakfast!" He started to pull off the comfortable blankets off of his best mate.

"NOO!" Harry cried, trying to get the blanket out of Ron's grasp, but to no avail. He sighed and sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes and grabbing his round, black glasses.

"Finally!" Ron said, smiling. "Hermione's waiting for us! How was detention?"

Harry remembered last night. He shivered absentmindedly, remembering the excruciating pain he was in while in the office, and how his lungs hurt after screaming and pleading and yelling. How it felt even worse than when Voldemort himself cast the stupid curse on him.

"You okay, mate?" Ron asked, concerned. He noticed Harry's shiver.

"'M fine." Harry said, shrugging. He stood up, not noticing how weird his voice sounded.

"Mate, your voice is all croaky and stuff," Ron remarked, grabbing his orange sweater. He took a closer look at his friend and widened his eyes. "Dude! You're all pale!"

"huh?" Harry mumbled, looking at the mirror. He looked at his reflection, who frowned at him. His skin was pale and he notice that he was skinny. _Perks for being under the Cruciatus Curse, I guess,_ Harry thought bitterly to himself.

"Are you sick? Maybe you should go to the hospital wing," Ron suggested.

"Wha- No, I'm fine! I just had one of those nightmares again!" Harry said quickly, shaking his head. He grabbed the closest sweater he owned, pulling it onto himself, he instantly felt warmer.

"Al... Alright.." Ron said. He sighed and opened the door, walking with Harry.

They chatted about Christmas, and what they hoped they would get, since it was November, and next month it would be the holidays. Then Ron spoke up.

"I heard somewhere that there's going to be a new kid getting sorted. I think they're in the same year as us." Ron said. They reached the Great Hall and walked to their seats.

"Really? I didn't know you could do that." Harry said.

"Yeah, you can do that." Ron told his friend. "I think it's a girl. Hey, maybe I could have a chance to date her." He smirked.

Harry rolled his eyes. "As if." He scoffed, sitting down beside Hermione. He grabbed some one fried egg and a piece of buttered white toast. He poured himself a cup of hot chocolate and started eating.

"Harry! Are you okay?" Hermione said, looking over at her friend, noticing his pale skin and hearing his croaky voice. Harry inwardly groaned, tired of hearing the same thing every day.

"'M fine, 'Mione," Harry said, hiding his annoyed tone. He took a bite out of his toast.

"Maybe you should go see Madam Pompfrey, and you really should eat more." The bushy haired girl stated worriedly.

"I'm fine!" Harry snapped. "I'm just tired, that's al!"

Hermione sighed, defeated, and reluctantly continued eating her pancakes, sausages, and bacon. Ron already dug into as much bacon as he possibly could hold in one plate and began devouring it all.

* * *

After a few minutes, Harry noticed that everyone in the Great Hall were talking about the same thing.

"Did you hear? There's going to be a new kid!"

"I hope she's cute!"

"I hope she's into Quidditch players!"

Dumbledore began tapping on his goblet with a teaspoon, silencing the Hall. He was smiling and had that same old annoying goddamn twinkle in his eyes.

"Hello, students of Hogwarts!" The Headmaster said cheerfully. "As you've all probably heard from your sources, there is going to be a new student here in our school! Now, I request that you should treat her respectfully, and treat her as you would treat anyone else."

McGoneggal **(pls don't hate meh if I spelled it wrong ;-;)** placed the old, dirty sorting hat onto a wooden stool.

"Fiona Ember!" She called in a sharp voice.

Harry froze. _Fiona Ember_. It just seemed to roll off his tongue. _Fiona Ember. Fiona. Fiona._ Fiona. That sounded just like his best friend's name. Fiona. Fiona Ember.

No, it couldn't be. Yes. It just happened that the new kid just had the exact same name as his dead best friend. That had to be it.

A tall, dirty blond girl with sharp,blue eyes and small freckles dotting her face stood up from the crowd, walking up to the stool. She was smiling and blushing at the same time, and she looked at Harry and smiled wider. She gave him a small wave and continued walking.

 _No. No, no, no, no._ This... This isn't real. This couldn't be real. She looked exactly like Harry's best friend! Same face, same smile, same attitude, same shyness, same actions...

 _I've been living a damn lie my whole entire life._ Harry thought, scowling. His friend was alive. The same friend he saw die in his arms. But... But she was a squib, right? She shouldn't be in school... Unless... Wait..

Arabella Figg was a squib too, and she had a little bit of magic. So does Filch. Does that mean Fiona can do the same bit of magic?

The whole entire Great Hall started muttering at once, wondering what her house was going to be.

After a few minutes, the Sorting Hat gave a loud shout that echoed in the house.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

* * *

 **I was SERIOUSLY considering making Fiona a Slytherin. Idk, should I make her a Slytherin? Or a different house? You decide!**

 **Reviews and flames feed me motivation :3**


	5. Flashback

**Pretend**

* * *

 **Disclaimer- I don't own nothing except my OC's in this case, Fiona and her family.**

 **Thanks for all the kind reviews! :D**

 **Sorry for the late update ;-;**

 **Heyyyy, we get to hear a little backstory of Fiona and her twin brother.**

* * *

One little balloon was chatting away with his friends.

Soon, one by one, his friends all left, leaving only the lonely balloon. His friends were better off without him.

Then a boy walked over and snatched the balloon.

He started blowing the balloon, making it get bigger and bigger and bigger.

One, two, three, four.

The balloon is getting bigger.

Oh no!

The balloon's about to pop!

The boy grabs a pin and pokes a puncture into a balloon, and keeps blowing.

The balloon shrank, but gets bigger again.

Again, again, again, again.

Whenever the balloon gets bigger, the boy pokes another puncture.

Again, again, again.

* * *

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Sorting Hat shouted, and Harry froze.

Oh no… He thought. Great, my supposedly dead friend is in the same damn house as me.

He ignored all the clapping and the twins' catcalling, but he saw how Professor Toad's face was scrunched up as if Fiona was a disgusting piece of garbage.

I need to protect her. Harry told himself, glaring at the Senior Undersecretary aka no one cares. Don't you dare give her one of your damn detentions.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, waving his hands in front of his mate's face. "Earth to Harry!" Harry didn't answer. He was thinking too much. Ron groaned.

Fiona had sat down beside Hermione, and smiled seeing her old friend. "Allow me." "She told Ron. She cleared her throat, walked up to Harry's ear, and slightly shouted, "HI!"

Harry jumped, and took out his wand, looking around, panicking. He saw Fiona land on her butt and laughing. He scowled, rubbing his ear.

"Bloody hell?" Harry said as Fiona kept on laughing. "I thought someone was dying!"

Fiona had a wide grin on her face. "I know. It was kinda awesome." She took a look at the wand that Harry was holding as if his life depended on it. "You're not gonna kill me, are you?"

Harry sighed and put it away. He put out a hand and helped her up. "All this time…?"

Fiona nodded sadly. "Yeah, I know. We'll talk about it later."

Ron looked at Fiona and his best mate. "What, do you guys know each other or something?"

Harry shrugged, sitting down beside Ron. "Sorta, we don't talk a lot." I wonder why,FIONA?

"You can't blame it all on me, Harry!" Fiona defended, rubbing her arm.

"Blame what?" Hermione asked, confused.

"NOTHING!" Harry accidentally shouted, causing everyone to look at him, amusement in their faces. "Um, keep eating?"

* * *

It was nearly eleven o'clock in the morning when Harry and Fiona were able to talk in the Gryffindor common room, due to Umbitch's ever so loving detentions. Harry had never felt so exhausted in his life, and for a moment he wished that he just kept on using the blood quill. Luckily, there was no one in the room with them.

"You okay, Lightning? You look like crap." Fiona observed, smiling as she said the nickname.

Harry groaned, hating the nickname. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?!" He sat on an armchair and massaged his head.

His friend giggled. "Whatever. Oh, also, Sam asked for a blanket apology for whatever words he said to you."

Sam… Sam Amber… Fiona's twin brother… Harry sighed, shaking his head. "Why are we here?"

Fiona shrugged. "Well… Are we cool?"

Harry scoffed, his face had a look of disbelief. "Are we cool?!"

Fiona sighed, smiling. "I disappear and you're mad—"

"Psh… Yeah!" Harry rolled his eyes.

"—AND I owe you an explanation." She continued, ignoring Harry. "Well.."

 **~~~~~~Flashback~~~~~~**

 _Harry was just walking to Fiona and Sam Amber's house to hang out. It was the summer after first year, and the Dursleys were afraid of Harry, so they let him out for a while. Sam was waiting outside, strumming a guitar, when he saw Harry. He smiled and put down the guitar._

 _"Hey, dude." He greeted. "Back again?"_

 _Harry nodded. "Yeah, I missed you guys a lot."_

 _Sam let Harry in their house. "Dad's doing grocery shopping. He sorta moved on from mum's death. Fiona's still sleeping." He motioned to sit down on the couch._

 _"How are you holding up?" Harry asked, feeling sorry for the family. He had never really lost anyone, well, besides his parents, but besides them._

 _"I'm alright. She was a really great woman… But I guess you just sorta know that people come and go."_

 _"So you're not at all affected?"_

 _"Well, yes, I am." Sam shook his head and changed the subject. "So, I suppose little Fi-Fi told you we were squibs?"_

 _Harry nodded. "Yeah. Took me by shock, honest."_

 _Sam laughed. "I imagine. Dad and mum were muggleborns, and dumbledore told them not to tell you."_

 _Harry sighed. "Well, I guess he did it for good reason." He stood up and knocked on Fiona's bedroom door. "Hey! Wake up, sleepy head!"_

 _Fiona's voice came ringing in his ears. "Y-yeah! J-just a sec.." He heard the rattling of a pill bottle and he got worried, mainly because her voice sounded croaking and dry._

 _"Fiona?"_

 _"Just w-wait!"_

 _Sam came running to the door, and tried to open it. "Crap.. Why won't it open?! FIONA! Shit…" Sam grabbed a key from the many key chains and unlocked the door._

 _Fiona was sat down on the floor, holding a sleeping pill bottle in her hands, crying. Harry would never forget that image._

 _Harry snatched the bottle from her hands and threw it in the garbage. "NO!" Fiona shouted._

 _Sam ran over and hugged her tightly, and Fiona started crying on his shoulder. "I miss her… I miss her…"_

 _Sam nodded, rubbing her back gently. "I know…" He told his sister quietly in her ear. "It's okay.."_

 _Harry swore to himself, trying not to cry. He needed to check. He had heard of people having depression before, and… Suicide, before. Most people had cuts on their arms, and their thighs.. But never had he seen it with someone so young.. Fiona was wearing a long sleeved shirt and pants. He softly lifted up a sleeve and gasped. Sam saw it too. Tons.. Tons of small cuts on her arm, some recently, some weeks old._

 _"We need to call your dad." He told Sam._

 _"Yeah…" Said boy mumbled._

* * *

 **SO THATS IT!**

 **Sorry this chapter is a BIT short!**

 **Remember to review and follow this story! :D**

 **Flames and reviews, whatever!**

 **I'm LONELYYY!**

 **And if I don't get reviews, I just feel like no one likes this story so I stop updating it :(**


	6. Realization

**Pretend**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own shit except for Fiona and her family. Someone else owns Harry Potter. I don't know who they are, but it's not me.**

 **Thank you for all the kind reviews! :)**

 **I was sort of wondering if I should start replying to them, or not? Tell me your thoughts!**

 **Anyways… Here we gooooo!**

* * *

Draco hurried into Professor Snape's office. Something about Harry seemed… Off today. He had been spending a lot of time with the new kid, not that it bothered him or anything. They played around a lot, shoving each other, laughing at jokes. Hell, he even got told off because he was swearing while he was talking to her! What was her name again? Something along the lines of… Fiona? Fiona Amber? What the heck kind of name is that?

He finally reached Snape's office and knocked. Loudly. Snape groaned.

"Come in."

Draco opened the door and sat down on a chair, exhausted. A small fire was crackling by Professor Snape's desk, and said man was sitting marking sixth years' essays. As soon as he saw Draco, he sighed and put down a piece of parchment.

"What now?" He asked.

"Didn't you see?" He said, sitting up straight.

Snape smirked. "Yes, I can see that you are quite exhausted."

Draco scowled. "Not that! I meant, did you see Fiona?"

"Yes, I saw her. We all saw her, Draco. Remember? The Sorting of her?"

Draco sighed in frustration, meanwhile, Snape was getting amused. **(A/N My dumbass almost wrote the word "aroused" XD)** "NO! I mean did you see how close she and Harry were acting?"

"Yes… Yes I did.." Now that he thought about it, he remembered how Mr. Golden Boy and Ms. New Kid were acting at Potions. He and her were cracking jokes and talking as if it was their last day tomorrow. He had to separate the Gryffindors and slapped Potter on the back of his head.

"Well?" Draco snapped, bringing Snape back to his senses.

"What? Are you jealous?"

"NO!" Draco screeched, and Snape couldn't help snickering in his hand. "I'm bloody asking if you… Argh…!" He leaned back into his chair, partly annoyed, mostly exhausted.

Snape sighed. "If we are going to talk about Potter, let's talk about what you were going on about it right before you chickened out."

"And what was that?" Draco asked, massaging his forehead.

"Remember? Something about cuts and bruises or something."

"Right."

Draco sighed, and tried to remember all the details. Did he really want him to know? He was legally his Godfather, after all. But… Wouldn't that invade Harry's privacy? That wouldn't let Harry trust him.

"Well… It started with me going to the Astronomy Tower. You know, to clear my mind and to study, I guess." Snape nodded along, patiently listening, and Draco fumble with his words. "Well, I saw Harry sitting down on like… The ledge. Like, his feet were dangling in the air. He just stared lifelessly into the horizon. I started speaking, and then I noticed him roll down a sleeve, and then I asked him why he was there and he was telling me about the damn constellations.

"Then I told him it was the lamest excuse ever, and he just shrugged and then his whole attitude changed to this perky behavior. Like, his back straightened and this huge smile was on his face. I told him it didn't matter and then I asked what he was thinking about. He said he was thinking about life, what would happen if he landed in an orphanage, and he was about it to go on about something else, but then he cut himself off." This left Snape to wonder why on earth Potter would want to live in an orphanage.

"Then I said 'what, your pampered lifestyle not good enough?' And then he said that he loved being with relatives every holiday, and then I told him not to say that in his ungrateful tone and… And.." Draco took a shaky breath. He knew what was coming next, and he didn't feel like he knew how to say it. "C-can't you do Legilimens on me or something?"

"Is something wrong?" Snape asked, concerned.

"I just… I don't think I'll be able to explain what happened next."

Snape sighed. "Get ready." He pulled out his wand. "Are you sure this is okay?"

"Yeah.."

"1… 2… 3… Legilimens!"

* * *

Snape found himself right into the Astronomy Tower. He saw Harry and Draco sitting down, and then suddenly he heard Harry talk.

No Malfoy, I just love being with my relatives every holiday." Harry said sarcastically.

Why would he say that sarcastically?

"Don't say that in that ungrateful tone!" Malfoy snapped. "You should be happy that you get everything you want at home! You have all the money anyone could possibly want!"

Here we go again with the money..

Snape saw Harry flinch and then pause..

What the hell was going on? Then, he heard him say things he hoped he'd never hear again.

"You want to know WHY I said that in that 'ungrateful' tone?!" Harry snarled, standing up. "I'll tell you why! Have you ever noticed anything different about me every term after summer? Ever noticed that I'm about as thin as a twig? How I don't normally want to talk to people? Hell, everyone wants to talk to me, though! Because I'm the boy who fucking lived! Famous for something my mother did!

Snape flinched, hearing about Lily.

The Dursleys? What did they do to me? I'll tell you what they fucking did-" as Harry was talking, he was clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles were turning white and his fingernails were digging into his skin"- They fucking kept me in a cupboard."

What? Wait… What?! No… No no.. Snape was instantly reminded of his own childhood, except… Not the cupboard part..

Harry took a shaky breath. "I lived in the cupboard. Under the stairs. The was my home. My routine was that everyday I wake up super early to prepare them a glorious breakfast, then Uncle Vernon hands me two pages worth of chores, and if I'm not done, or if I don't do something right, I get beaten and whipped and tortured.

Snape was boiling. That was how mad he was. How dare they! How could they do that Lily's child! No, he saw Harry as James' child. Oh god. If Lily was alive… He would never hear the end of it.

"Tell you what, my innocence was taken when I turned fucking seven.

No… He… They… NO! They WHAT?! Snape's body was tense, and his knuckles were turning white with fury. He should've seen the signs… He should've.. He should've seen the signs that he was being abused… He should've..

No. He saw things the way he wanted to see them. He didn't want to see Harry as an abused being like him.

That was how awful they were. But for Dumbledore? NO NO NO! I was safest there! He wouldn't care about the abuse I was going through even if it was staring right at him! He only cares about me as a fucking pawn in the war and nothing else!"

As stupid as this sounds, Dumbledore actually cares a whole lot about you, Snape thought. He sighed. Why didn't he help? Why didn't he notice? If he actually cared? Wouldn't he notice?

Tears were now running down Harry's face and he took a deep breath. He slid down one of the columns and cried silently into his arms and knees.

"I hate doing this..." He muttered to himself.

Snape saw how surprised Draco looked, his face contorting to surprise, then sadness, then anger, then all of the above.

Snape, meanwhile, was fighting his own battle to go to Harry and demand answers. He knew best not to, since, after all, this is a memory.

"How have you hid this all from us?" The King of Slytherin asked softly, 'us' referring to the people at school.

Harry laughed humorlessly. "I learned a very important talent when I was in kindergarten at muggle school." He said dully, no emotion in his voice. There wasn't even a trace of emotion in Potter's face.

Snape felt uncomfortable, seeing the look on Harry's face. He even flinched at the tone of his voice. Potter was a damn good actor if he managed to keep it from everyone this long.

"I learned how to pretend." Harry said simply and tonelessly. "You ever play make believe? Pretend you're one thing, when you're really the other?" He laughed again. "'Mione and Ron never learn. But I do."

Snape still couldn't get over this fact? How? HOW?!

 _"You've changed, though, Potter." He stated calmly._

Great job, Mr. Obvious.

 _Harry smiled without feeling. "I've always been like this," He said cheerfully. "You're just seeing it for the first time."_

 _"I don't understand."_

 _"Have you noticed how everyday I'm late for Breakfast or just skip breakfast?"_

Snape did.

 _Harry asked. "It's because on most days, I can't even find a reason or an ounce of motivation to get up. Why go to school? Why make friends? Why eat? Why make others waste their energy by spending time with me? That's what it feels like." He grins. "It's bittersweet, when people care about me. On one hand it's finally good to have someone to care, and on the other hand I feel disgusted as to why people would even bother caring about me. I'm better off dead! Haha! Imagine that, the Ministry comes and I'm just hanging from the ceiling!" Potter was laughing now._

Snape was dumbstruck. H-how? What? This is impossible!

 _"Potter, stop that!"_

 _"No." Harry said. "If we're going to be talking like this then we might as well call ourselves by our given names Mal- Draco."_

Wait, where did that come from?

 _"Fine, HARRY," Draco scowled. "Are you going insane?"_

 _Potte- Harry giggled. "I don't really know." He replied, looking at the stars. "Some days I think I've gone insane, other days I want to go insane."_

 _He began playing with his long shirt sleeve and absent-mindedly, accidently lifting it up high enough for Draco to notice his most recent cuts. Draco grabbed hold of his hand tightly._

Snape noticed them, and then his eyes grew wide. His eyes were watering with tears. How could he let this happen?

 _"What is this?" He hissed. Harry became horrified and tried to pull himself away from Malfoy's grip._

 _"I-it's nothing! It's a scratch! Let me go!" He snapped, trying to fight his hand away._

Yes, sure, it's just the deepest scratch ever.

 _Draco kept on holding Potter's hand tightly. "No. It is not just a scratch!" He rolled up the sleeves and quickly let go, eyes wide._

 _Harry's arms were littered with cuts, from wrist to elbow, and not only that..._

 _There were bruises._

 _Angry, purple bruises and red marks everywhere._

Snape froze. He looked at Potter's arm. Why? Why so many? So many cuts? He had no doubt there were more.

And the bruises… Oh, Merlin, the bruises...

 _Harry sighed. "I knew I should've put on a glamour before I came up here," he muttered to himself._

GLAMOUR! Snape now recalled when he noticed he was wearing a glamour. How? And then he realized. Harry was thin. Sickly thin. Without the glamour, he looked like a twig.

 _"Potte– Harry?" Draco asked quietly. "H-how long?"_

 _Harry shrugged. "Long enough." He said simply._

That wasn't really an answer. How long was long enough?

 _"I... I'm sorry."_

 _Harry sighed in frustration. "Dude, what the bloody hell?" He snapped, standing up. "Stop acting like an ass! You keep on being rude and then now you're being nice to me!"_

 _"Im trying not to make you kill yourself!" Draco argued._

 _"Well, stop being such a dick about it!" Harry huffed, turning around. "See you tomorrow, Malfoy."_

 _He left the Slytherin on the Astronomy Tower, annoyed. He put on his glamours and grabbed his invisibility cloak with him, walking away._

* * *

Snape pulled away from Draco's mind, and he had to keep his fury from exploding. Then he noticed something.

Draco was crying.

* * *

 **Oof, well, her ya have it! Sorry for the long wait! .-.  
**

 **Review and flames are greatly appreciated and they motivate me!**


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